


Hero Hands

by uriokuki



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Internal Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:03:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uriokuki/pseuds/uriokuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is important for Hanamiya Makoto to think of himself as the villain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Highschool days (early)  
> Characters: Hanamiya Makoto (pre-season 2)

Hanamiya Makoto wasn’t always an angry boy. He knew how to have fun without getting too rough. He knew how to smile without malice. He even knew how it felt to be genuinely happy.

But not anymore.

Growing up had destroyed that. The people he thought he could trust betrayed him. The ones he thought he could rely on abandoned him.

They had given him joy; they had also taken it away.

This left him only with anger. Injustice! It was unfair! Life was unfair! How he hated life, but he wouldn’t end it.

He still clung to the hope that things would turn out okay. But he had closed his eyes and heart.

No one would come close enough to hurt him again… if they did, he would hurt them back.

That is how it is, right? Eye for an eye?

He had heard of that other saying as well, treat others how you would want them to treat you. He scoffed. if he was a doormat, sure, he’d believe it, but he wasn’t that naïve. He would only treat others as it suited him. He knew now that nothing in life was free, so he had to take it by whatever means possible.

He hated people who worked hard and struggled but were nothing but earnest. It sickened him.

Why did they let themselves suffer so much? Could it be because they wanted to? Then they were all dumb and didn’t deserve what they worked for. Simple as that.

He would take their dreams and stomp on them, just like they did to him.

Makoto knew he was a genius. Academically, it showed, and despite people thinking he had it easy, he really didn’t.

They didn’t know that he hated thinking. A million thoughts racing across his mind, all at the same time sometimes. He wished he was a normal, mindless person. A slave to his own mediocrity, so he wouldn’t have to think of the things he thought.

He was probably depressed, easy as it was for him to fall into the pits of his darkest thoughts.

If he wasn’t distracted by his books, he would sometimes lose his self to his own thoughts, most of the time they turned for the worst. He would always stop himself before he cried, but it always left him with a hollow feeling in his chest. Like the white noise of an offline television.

Sometimes he wanted to just carve his heart out to stop the feeling, but he had more common sense than that. He didn’t have any physical scars to show, they were all inside.

He wished there would be someone out there to save him. To see through him and take his hand and hold him. He would take out his heart and put it in their hands and they would take care of it.

Something like that.

No one like that exists, he thinks bitterly. It is futile to hope, but he’s selfish and lonely and angry. Only human. If he can’t help himself, then no one can.

There’s a reason why his eyes are always half lid. It’s not because he is fatigued, it’s because he’s bored and tired. He’s bored and tired with life. Nothing takes his interest anymore. Everything is so easy to figure out it's painful to even live anymore.

The only way to amuse himself now is to believe he is the main actor, and everything is his stage. This is how normal people think, why not he?  
If this is so, then he must perform beautifully. He performs according to his whims, though. Sometimes he is the perfect angelic child of a rich family. Other times, he is the antagonist to the other main characters. He likes this role best.

He has read in books and watched in movies that almost everyone admires the hero because the hero always wins. The bad guys get a lot of fan base too, but that’s not what he’s after.

The villain always has an untold story behind their deeds. Why are they always against the hero? Because they are always in the way of their plans. Plans that everyone else opposes because it will destroy their happiness.  
Happiness that everyone has except for the villain.

He hurts others because he hates what they have. He wants it. But he will never have it.

Because he is the villain. And the villain is always a significant part of the story. The villain won’t be forgotten. The villain will die in the end, at the hands of the hero, but that’s okay. The hero thinks he is significant too.

That’s caring, right? Even if they hate you, they chase after the villain, stopping them before their evil plans succeed because they care. They care about the people they protect and they care enough about the villain to stop them.

Makoto feels lonelier than ever. If he stops being a villain and becomes an extra to the play that is life, he will die. His heart will burn out, his hate will turn to ashes and he will wither into nothing where no one will see him. Forgotten.

But if he is the villain, he will die before the hero overlooking his pitiful body. The hero will look at him with various emotions like triumph and regret.

He loves the look of regret the most. The hero does not kill, does not murder— they slay. But the hero knows the truth. By their hands, they have ended a life. They regret. They care.

Makoto cries and laughs. He is hysterical and dramatic; there is definitely something crazy in him, but what genius isn’t? Genius comes with a price, and it is always sanity.

He looks at his hands.  
He too has power in them, just like the hero. But they are his hands, not the hands of others. Heroes’ hands are not their own. Theirs are dictated by the people they protect. Theirs are hands of love.

He clenches his fists until the knuckles are white.

His hands are his. They are only for him. And they are extensions of his heart.

He snaps.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Tumblr: [here](http://mamamiyabadboys.tumblr.com/post/92045034383/hero-hands)


End file.
